Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 141464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
“It’s fun.” The smile slides from my mouth as I glance at Rooster again. From what Jigsaw’s told me, Rooster’s been an important part of his life—probably even saved his life more than once—for a long time. “There’s a lot of love under all that teasing.”
Shelby nods, slow and thoughtful. “Mmmhmm. They’ll never admit it, but it’s there.”
“Yes.” Rooster throws a patient look in Jigsaw’s direction. “Don’t know why, though.”
Jigsaw widens his eyes and waves his hand toward Rooster’s face. “Who else is going to tell you when that collection of tumbleweeds on your chin is out of control?”
Rooster strokes his hand over his impeccably groomed full beard. “All I hear is jealousy, brother. Keep eating your veggies. Maybe that scruff will turn into a big boy beard one day.”
Jigsaw rumbles with laughter, not the least bit offended. They know exactly how far to push each other, always dancing close to the line but never crossing it. Their teasing always seems wrapped in affection, not malice.
Grinder’s door clicks open and the older biker steps into the hallway. With his broad back to us, he half-turns and glances into the room, one arm casually braced against the doorframe, waiting patiently. A few seconds later, Serena emerges, cradling a chunky baby in her arms, her long blond ponytail swaying as she balances his weight against her hip.
Grinder leans in, brushing a kiss over Serena’s cheek, then another against the top of the baby’s head. He murmurs something to her, too low for me to make out. When he turns toward us, all softness disappears. His expression sharpens, posture shifting—shoulders squared, chin lifted, eyes scanning with quiet intensity. The change is subtle but unmistakable. Yup, it makes sense that he’s the club’s enforcer. It’s hard to reconcile this commanding, quietly protective man with the way those club girls dismissed him last night—“that old guy who got outta prison.” Casually cruel. So far off the mark, it’s almost laughable.
I’m so happy he kicked their asses to the curb. I only wish I’d been able to watch.
“Morning,” he says, voice calm but clipped.
His eyes zero in on me. “How’re you doing today, Margot?”
“Much better.” I reach for Jigsaw’s hand, squeezing his fingers to anchor myself.
“Hey, lil’ mama.” Shelby hurries to Serena’s side, giving her a gentle one-armed hug while peeking at the baby. “And good mornin’, lil’ butterbean.”
Serena giggles and Lincoln gives a soft, squawky protest, squirming in her arms.
“I’ll take him, buttercup.” Grinder slides the baby from her hold with practiced ease, tucking him against his chest. He tips his chin toward the hallway. “Why’re we all standing around here? Let’s go.”
“Uh, we were waiting for you, Grumpy.” Jigsaw coughs into his fist. “I mean, Grinder.”
“Keep that shit up,” he growls, cutting a sharp glare at Jigsaw. “You and Z, with the grumpy shit.”
“To be fair, I think Wrath started it,” Rooster says in his most helpful tone. “And you’re kind of proving their point.”
Grinder mutters something low and threatening.
While the guys continue their back-and-forth, Serena slips between them and hooks her arms around Shelby and me, tugging us forward with a conspiratorial grin. “I’m starving. Every calorie I take in, Lincoln sucks right out of me.”
Shelby titters with laughter. “From what I heard, it’s a big ol’ carb fest in there this mornin’.”
The main room’s packed again, but thankfully the giant-screen TV is dark—no pornos playing on a loop this morning. No garish red lights either. Just weak sunlight sneaking through the tinted windows and the white glare of the overhead lights.
Serena edges behind the empty bar and motions for us to sit at the short side of the counter, near the wall. The corner’s cozy and out of the way, which I appreciate after last night. The guys sort of form a loose circle behind us, talking in low tones.
Serena pulls three bottles of water from somewhere under the bar and I accept one gratefully. The condensation chills my fingers as I twist the cap open and take a long sip, enjoying the cool rush down my throat.
Serena glances around the packed room, then rests her elbows on the counter, leaning closer to me. “Gray said you had some trouble last night. I’m so sorry we got separated.”
I set down the bottle, grateful it’s only the three of us tucked into this corner. “It all happened so fast, I’m not sure you could’ve done anything.”
“Bonnie’s been askin’ for trouble lately,” Shelby mutters, picking at the label on her water bottle. “She used to be okay. I dunno what crawled up her butt.”
“Well, Gray assured me they won’t be coming back.” Serena pats my hand, her tone firm and big-sisterly.
“Uh, one of them, Amanda, said you used to be friends?” I wince. “I’m sorry if I got her in trouble.”
Serena stiffens at the name. “We haven’t been friends in a while, unfortunately.”